


Midsummer Resonance

by chaoticlivi



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Wet Dream, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticlivi/pseuds/chaoticlivi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's possible to talk in your sleep, walk in your sleep, eat in your sleep. I wonder - if your partner is on your mind, is it possible to resonate in your sleep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midsummer Resonance

They were in a huge, soft bed.

The Black Room spun as her pleasure mounted around his cock. She pulled him closer, and he murmured in her ear:

"Maka, you’re so fucking hot. You’re the best."

"Soul," she panted. "You’re going to make me—"

The world faded to black; she realized she was dreaming. But she’d passed the point of no return, and even as hazy wistfulness for his touch - his  _real_  touch - set in and she opened her eyes to the sight of the ceiling in her room, she came in her sleep shorts, orgasm rippling between her legs.

"That was odd," she whispered out loud. Maka didn’t usually have wet dreams. In fact, she’d had only one once before, a long time ago.

It had also starred Soul, of course.

This one had been more satisfying, right up until the very end when she realized it was all a dream. That significantly dulled the pleasure. She should have known from the beginning of the dream that it wasn’t real; the Black Room had left Soul two years ago, taken by the Black Blood on the moon.

Granted, it was the most realistic dream she’d ever had. Of course she had many dreams that Soul was in, but never had she been so convinced that he’d really been with her as in this one.

Oh, well. Maka sat up, getting ready to start her day. She wouldn’t be getting back to sleep now anyway, and she was going to need another shower.

* * *

 

Soul, meanwhile, stirred in his own room. After he felt Maka come around him, he hadn’t been able to contain himself any longer—

And his vision grew dark in a whirlwind of realization. He opened his eyes to the fabric of his pillow just in time to feel his cock twitch and spill over, warm and wet in his boxers.

"Urgh _fuck_ ,” he muttered, voice muffled, into his pillow. He thought he was done with this. Puberty was supposed to be over years ago, right?

And his dream had taken place in the Black Room. Freaky. He supposed it would make sense to return there with the idea of her - it was characteristic of the mental space they had shared.

But that dream had been something else. Waking up had been disorienting, as though he’d been ripped from a real experience.

Soul got out of bed and slipped some thick sweat pants on to cover up. He needed a damn shower anyway, so he might as well go take it now—

"Good morning?" Maka said, trying - with a mysterious awkwardness - to greet him as they met in front of the bathroom door. "You’re early."

"Oh, hi," he said, confused. Usually she showered at night.

"You need to get in here?" she asked, also apparently confused.

"Yeah, gotta fuckin’…take a shower I guess," he said, ruffling his hair further. "You can go first though."

"Nah, it’s okay. Go ahead. I’ll just, uh, go make some breakfast." She turned to the kitchen a little too fast.

"Good morning, Maka," he called after her. She looked back as if startled and blushed lightly, smiling back at his little grin.

* * *

_A month later_

Maka didn’t think it would be  _possible_  to feel more aroused, but the discovery that Soul was touching himself stoked the blazing fire at her core.

What had they been doing before this? She didn’t know. It was totally irrelevant, anyway. They’d landed here on this conveniently-placed bed in his soul room, then got straight to work making out. There had been no pretenses and no delicacy, though there was love and a kind of desperate gentleness.

She couldn’t taste enough of his mouth, couldn’t feel enough of his teeth. His hand was up her skirt and she didn’t think twice about sticking her own hand down his pants to grip him. Their breaths weighed far more than air.

He’d asked if he could taste her,  _please_ , it was something he’d always wanted to do.

And now he was eating her out. He was erratic and disorganized, just like his music, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with his intimate moans as loud as hers and his eyes-closed concentration and his persistent, curious, devoted tongue.

_And_  he’d starting touching himself, somehow; though it seemed it would be exhausting, he’d managed to arrange himself so he could stroke his own cock with his left hand. As she urged him on with breathy cries of  _almost there, damn it, Soul, so close, yes_ , his stroking sped up and his voice grew husky.

She came, that familiar lava rolling over her pussy and hips, her whole being, her body, mind, and soul.

And she strangled a cry upon realizing that, once again, she was looking at her ceiling, and once again, she was in her bed.

_Again_? That was the third time this week! There was something seriously bizarre going on!

Wait, though. She felt a familiar pulling at the back of her mind, weak but definitely there. That pulling was —

— what soul resonance felt like.

* * *

 

She was so fucking hot, everything about her. As she came he kept licking, prolonging her pleasure, jerking himself because he too was so close and this was going to push him over the edge.

He blearily discovered that what was in his mouth was the edge of his pillow, and this had all been a dream.

He was over the disappointment before it started.

It was nothing new, the third time this week alone, but he could still hold on to the feelings and sensations, the vision of her, his arousal all hot and heavy. He  _needed_  to come. Soul reached blindly for a tissue from the box next to his bed, willing the dream to stay just long enough as he jerked furiously.

In his heart and mind, as he edged so close, he called out to that image, that thought of Maka.

In the back of his awareness, someone knocked on the door, and just as he supplied the tissue with more than it was probably meant to absorb, the voice in his wettest dreams said “Soul?” from out in the hallway.

* * *

 

Soul realized with sheer terror that he had been holding a light resonance with his meister _from across the apartment during a wet dream_ , and though he dropped it immediately, the damage had been done - without his usual defenses up, she could probably tell what he’d been doing in his bed.

As clarity replaced his sleepy, lustful haze, guilt and shame also settled into the pit of his stomach.

Maka wouldn’t - she wouldn’t be into that kind of thing with him. Maybe not at all. Dammit, he was supposed to help her stand up to perverts, not  _be_  one himself! In some ways, he felt like he’d borrowed her image, the fantasy of her, without her permission. He was a creep. And it would probably really upset her.

"Soul?" she asked again, far more tentative than usual. Oh, right. He’d been silent for at least a full minute by now. He took a deep breath and exhaled, throwing the overused tissue in the wastepaper basket, tucking himself back in his boxers and wrapping up in his blanket.

"What’s up?" he finally asked, keeping his tone neutral, hoping maybe she hadn’t been as privy to his thoughts as a resonance would suggest.

"Well, I just wondered," she said, voice high-pitched and definitely suggestive that she had been  _very_  privy to his thoughts, “if we could talk? Could you open the door?”

* * *

 

Maka’s heart pounded. While their resonance had been weak, she was  _almost_  positive of what she’d felt from Soul’s side, and the way it was abruptly dropped when she knocked on the door only served to convince her further.

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. She only knew this explained a lot, and if it was going to be this big an issue, she didn’t want to run from it.

"Yeah, hold on one sec," said Soul’s voice in his ‘please pretend everything is cool’ tone. She heard shuffling, and when her weapon opened the door, he was all wrapped in a burrito of blankets as if ill. He was obviously wary of her.

"Do you get the feeling we might be resonating in our sleep?" she blurted.

"Uh." He looked down at the floor before eyeing her again. "Maybe? Why, what - what do you think?"

Maka took a deep breath to steady herself. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I just woke up and we were definitely resonating and I might have been able to sense some things…”

Her weapon stared inscrutably, and for a moment she worried he might just close the door in her face. But instead he nodded toward the room and said, “I guess we might as well sit down for this one.”

She followed as he shuffled over to his bed. He was still clad in blankets, as though they would shield him from the awkwardness, and the bed creaked when they both sat down on it.

"I haven’t researched it yet or anything, because I just figured it out - at least, I think so. But it’s possible that we might have been sharing the same dream," Maka said to the tile floor.

Soul’s head snapped toward her so fast she was worried for the health of his neck, and she returned his gaze. “Wait, you…? Also? And, uh, how much did you see?” he stuttered.

She shrugged. “I was asleep for most of it. Thought it was only  _my_  dream. But then I woke up a little before you and caught the tail end… I felt your soul still reaching for me.”

At this point, both partners’ faces were red enough to stop traffic. Maka’s heart pounded.

"Sorry," Soul muttered.

"Mm-mm! Don’t be sorry!" Maka said. "But I guess if we’re gonna know for sure, we have to…" She trailed off, realizing what her idea would entail. "…be certain we were having the same dream."

They let that sentence hang in the air for a full, stiflingly anxious minute.

"How about," Soul suggested tentatively, staring back down at the place where his knees were hidden in the blankets, "if I just tell you it was really uncool and embarrassing?"

"We were in a version of the Black Room," Maka said, ignoring his attempts at dodging the conversation. "It’s like a dream I’ve had often. There’s no Little Demon like there used to be when you had it, but there is a bed. We were - we were together in it."

"Sounds about right," he said, voice soft and low.

"I guess it makes sense," Maka continued. "We’ve gotten so practiced we can even resonate in our sleep. I’m sure it happens to lots of really good meister and weapon pairs. I bet they’re not all that…intimate, though." She tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding forced.

Soul peeked at her sideways and offered a weak smile that indicated he knew  _exactly_  what she was talking about. ”Does that mean you’ve been really wanting what happened in that—” he started.

"I did want it," Maka cut him off with gentle certainty. "Every time. I don’t think it would be possible to resonate like that if the feeling wasn’t mutual. It’s like when we’re awake. Right?" she added hopefully.

* * *

 

Soul felt his ability to breathe coming back, and he relaxed his tense shoulders. The blankets sagged slightly around his arms, and he found himself capable of looking at her face again. Though his racing heart hadn’t gotten the message yet, it sounded like Maka was implying she… wanted him? Had, even, for a long time? Her flustered reactions to some of his joking flirtations - they were what he’d been hoping for all along?

"Yeah, I think you’re right," he said, hating the shake in his voice. "So…" he became even quieter, "what now?"

Maka bit her lower lip, and it would have turned him on if he wasn’t reeling from the emotional rollercoaster. Once again, his thoughts raced. Was she going to tell him they had to forget about this? That it was a bad idea? That their partnership couldn’t work out now?

"Can I kiss you?" she asked.

Soul blinked.

"Fuck yeah," he breathed.

It did not go as smoothly as it did in his - no, in  _their_  - dreams. Even though he leaned forward (discarding the blanket entirely) to assist, she still bumped his nose with hers before arriving at his lips.

"Sorry," she murmured, eyes half-closed.

"It’s okay," he said with his own half-grin.

He had absolutely no idea what to do with his hands, and she was obviously having the same problem. She rested one on his leg, the other on his arm as they touched lips over and over.

Even though they sucked at kissing, it was  _comfortable_  and her lips were much softer and warmer than they had been in his dreams. Happiness blossomed somewhere in Soul’s chest. He grinned so hugely he couldn’t hold another amateur kiss and Maka pulled back to give him a skeptical look.

"We’re not good at this," he clarified. Maka smiled sheepishly.

"Then we’re gonna have to practice," she said.

"Come closer then, nerdbrain," he teased.

She pouted and tackled him to the bed, where they tangled in the blankets that were still warm from Soul’s body. They were naturals at cuddling, which was a great start, and over the next few hours, they taught each other how to kiss - and more.

It turns out that in dreams, people have abilities they don’t have in reality, and before soul resonance can enhance a sexual experience, both partners must know how to have a sexual experience in the first place.

Despite the challenges, learning how to do these things  _together_  thrilled them both in a way a dream never could.


End file.
